


Mirror, Mirror

by lea_hazel



Series: The Grey Warden's Guide [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Altruism, Empathy, Gen, Grey Wardens, Heroism, Luxury, Poverty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warden and Morrigan disagree on a few crucial things, namely: everything the Warden does. Consequently Brosca sits down for an evening chat with her indispensable witch, to try and get her to see things from her point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror, Mirror

To wake up and be whole. To eat a meal. To stand, to walk step after step on whole feet. These were safe things to want. To look up and see the endless deathly sky with its blanket of rolling clouds; this, was less safe. A knife in the hand and not in the back; to look up and see a friend. Worst of all, though, were the strangers.

Morrigan sat by her campfire apart from the rest of the camp, as always. Brosca walked the distance through the dark and stood hovering just outside the circle of light, waiting.

"Warden." Her voice was clipped as she acknowledged the intruder.

Warily, she stepped into the space of her encampment. "We should talk," she said shortly.

"We've spoken often before, Warden," said Morrigan coolly. "'Tis clear enough that we do not see... eye to eye."

"Let me explain," asked Brosca. "I want you to see things as I do, maybe you'll understand."

Morrigan huffed, and gestured at the fire. "Do sit."

To be a Grey Warden was to do what needed to be done. Deal and wheedle with the reluctant. Lie, cheat and threaten anyone who shirked their duty. Kill the worst of them, if necessary. That was how you built an army; soldiers were just killers at the end of the day, and Brosca knew how to talk to a killer, being one herself. That was the bread.

"We are not friends, are we?" asked Brosca, stripping the leaves off a green twig one by one.

Morrigan regarded her hands. "'Tis true," she admitted, "though I know not why. We are not so different, I believe. You are a warrior, a survivor. I cannot understand why so many of your actions are so... weak."

 _It is not weak to show compassion_ , she thought, because that was what the others would say. It was not true, though. At least, it was not the only thing that was true, and a half-truth was falser than a lie. "Because I can," she said simply, making to toss the green branch into the slowly guttering flames.

There was enough gold, enough blood, enough time. Time enough to feed herself and someone else. Blood enough to shed a drop or two to help a stranger. There were riches, luxury beyond imagining. That was the butter.

"Don't," said Morrigan. "Green branches make the fire smoke."

"D'you remember what you told me about your mother?" asked Brosca bluntly.

"I believe I have told you many things about Flemeth," said Morrigan. "You will have to be more specific."

"About the time she took away your mirror," she explained.

Morrigan sat still and silent for a moment. "Yes," she said quietly. "I remember."

"This is my mirror," said Brosca, gesturing with two open hands. "If I'd a done something like this before I was a Grey Warden, I'd a starved or been shanked in no time. There's no butter where I come from, did you know that?"

"I—" started Morrigan, and paused. "No, Warden," she said. "I did not."

"D'you see what I mean, then, Morrigan?" she asked. "I don't do this t'be weak. Nobody'd a done this for me, no one except Duncan, and we both know he wasn't doing it for kindness. It was a loan and I paid the price. I'll keep paying the price for as long as I'm breathing."

"The Grey Warden's burden is... a heavy one," said Morrigan haltingly. "I know your lot must seem unbearably cruel."

Brosca shrugged. "Be dead now, otherwise," she said. "Every day's a gain, I s'pose."

"Why, then?" asked Morrigan insistently. "You know no one would offer you such favor, yet you dispense it yourself so cheaply!"

"I do it because I can," said Brosca simply. "Never could before. Never knew where I'd be in the morning. Now, I know. I'm a Grey Warden. Today people need me, tomorrow I'll need them."

Morrigan sighed theatrically. "I believe I understand your reasoning, Warden," she said, "although I doubt we will ever be of the same mind on the matter. However, I will not question your actions further. I owe you that much, at least."

Brosca nodded silently to herself, apparently satisfied.

For some time they sat quietly on either side of the guttering fire. After a while, the Warden rose slowly to her feet, nodded amicably and withdrew to her tent. Behind her she could feel Morrigan's eyes following her as she sat, deep in thought.  


End file.
